


Spoilers

by Medie



Category: Push (2009)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-20
Updated: 2010-07-20
Packaged: 2017-10-10 16:40:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/101872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I've had visions of Nick Gant fucking me through the floor (or wall, or bed, or the hood of a 1992 Toyota Corolla) since before I knew what fucking was</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spoilers

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for [Porn Battle X (Ten Big Ones) ](http://oxoniensis.dreamwidth.org/30726.html) for the prompt Nick/Cassie (grown) - seeing

Okay, so we've all gotten the part where I have visions. Watcher. Psychic. Whatever. I see stuff and that stuff may, or may not, happen. I mean, yeah, you make a decision and I can see the outcome, the inevitability of that decision, but a second later you make another one and completely undo the vision of before.

It's a thing. Any wonder my Mom found a way to bring alcohol into it? Even if it didn't heighten everything, god, it helps with this shit.

So, you know, when I was thirteen I could put away more than half the guys I know. Ten years later and it's pretty much the same thing. Pick a football team, any football team (any team of large, overly muscled, possibly illegally enhanced athletes from any sport really) and I'll drink them under the table.

Twenty three and I'm still a hundred pounds soaking wet (the thing nobody mentions about the awesome superpowers is the part where it seriously fucks you over. My metabolism is _scary_) and I've got the tolerance of the entire NFL. Seriously.

And the weirdest part is why. I mean, yeah, I regularly see my own violent demise (fun) and then there's the catastrophes and terrorist plots that plague pretty much every second I close my eyes, forget dreaming, so I'm kind of fucked up anyway, but the getting hammered part?

Mostly to do with the fact that I've had visions of Nick Gant fucking me through the floor (or wall, or bed, or the hood of a 1992 Toyota Corolla) since before I knew what fucking was.

Don't you just love my life?

Honestly, it was always a little weird, but when you're a kid and you're a Watcher, you see pretty weird shit almost every second of the day. The part where you're having sex with a hot guy isn't all that. I mean, yeah, compared to the getting shot at, chased around foreign countries, avoiding anything that looks like a decision because other Watchers are trying to find me?

Sex kind of pales in comparison.

Besides, I didn't even meet Nick until I was thirteen. And, yeah, in those visions I was always totally legal. Damn it.

God, the day I told him that was hysterical.

"You wha--what?"

It's too bad I wasn't a Mover. With the way he vaulted over the bed, scrambling away from me, you'd think I was. "Yeah, we're going to have a thing," I said, staying right where I was. Sprawled out on the bed in my pjs, I was working on a sketch, one foot hanging off the bed and kicking a lazy pattern in the air.

Did I mention the picture was kind of dirty? We're talking seriously fun parts of the Kama Sutra here. Oh, yeah, and we were the stars.

Nick couldn't look me in the eye for a week. Just sort of gave me this weird sideways look when he was talking to me and, seriously, _blushed_.

I scowled. "Come on, it's not like I mean now you moron. When I'm older. We have a thing. You're not half bad at the whole sex thing." Actually, pretty fantastic, but I wasn't tell him him that. Nick's ego is healthy enough without me pushing it along. It's not often my visions make me come, but uh, yeah?

Yeah, I know, I should be creeped out by the part where I was having visions of my sex life when I was a kid that were powerful enough to actually make me orgasm, but we did cover the whole 'Cassie's life is beyond fucked up' a few paragraphs back and I hate repeating myself.

"We are _not_ hooking up," Nick insisted. "Like ever."

Yeah, Nick's wrong a lot. At this point, he really should just go with it.

For the record, our first time wasn't my first time. Somewhere around sixteen I realized that he was starting to get a little fucked up about it all (Nick was fucked up about a lot of things, but the older I got, the weirder he got. Maybe this is one of those self-fulfilling prophecies, but those are part and parcel of being a Watcher. When you see the future, you know how to fix shit. Mostly. Okay, most of the time we're totally pulling out of our asses, but with our abilities, there's not much else you can do) and took matters into my own hands.

The guy was hot. So was the girl that followed. And the girl after that. I kind of stuck to girls for a while. Long enough that, I think, Nick forgot about the whole bisexual possibility (Kinsey this guy's not) and thought he was off the hook.

Ha.

The thing about casual hook ups when you're a Watcher? Is the part where they can make you see things. Visions of the future, similar situations, and with guys? It was always about Nick. I fucked some guy in a bar and it was Nick pressed against me. Nick's voice rumbling in my ear, groaning my name, Nick's fingers curling up inside me until I practically saw stars.

When I fucked some girl in a bar, when she went down on me, one of my legs over her shoulder while she licked my clit, there was just us. Her hands on my leg, mine in her hair, my body shaking with hers and my taste on her lips when I kissed her. I had a choice when I'm with her. It's not like Nick's this inevitability I'm stuck with because I can't have anyone else. I can have another life if I choose it and, then, I needed to remember that.

It wasn't fair, really, but hey sex in a bar? Not about commitments and she might not have been a Watcher, but there was someone else in her head too.

Anyway, I think maybe Nick wanted to pretend too. He didn't live with those visions like I did, but after Kira, it wasn't like we had a lot of people following us. She's her own woman these days, running Division, and I don't need to be a Watcher to know what that means for us. For me.

She always kind of knew, I think. Even when she had him, Nick was still mine. (I have a love/hate relationship with choice. When it comes to Kira, I kind of love the whole predestination thing. Nick's mine. Suck it.) I saw it. She fucked him in a shitty hotel room in Hong Kong while I saw him go down on me in a hut on Bali. I felt his lips ghost up my thigh, his fingers sliding slick through me, his cock making me scream.

I saw it. I knew it, and so did she. I was the thirteen year kid that stole her boyfriend. The forerunner of her future adversary. She runs Division, I keep everyone running. I kind of like that part almost as much as the sex.

I look up to Nick's entrance. "Find it?"

He nods, pulling a ripped shirt over his head, I frown at the bruises underneath. I saw it, I warned him, but Nick never listens.

Probably why, when I showed up in his bedroom at nineteen, he was still surprised. He can be kind of stupid sometimes, but I like stupid.

"Come here," I say, pushing the notebook aside.

He doesn't argue. We're clear on our power dynamics. I'm in charge, he likes it. "Anything I should be worried about?" he asks, reaching for the book.

"You're going to get shot again," I sigh. He laughs and kisses my shoulder. It's still bruised from another Mover's attack last week. I saw it coming, but hey, not even I can change everything. "Seriously."

"You'll fix it," he says, pulling the strap of my shirt down, bra with it. I've seen this night a million times. I'll see others a million more. Sex visions are a perk these days. I refuse to close my eyes and give into the visions right now. I want to live this.

Nick pushes me over. "You're too tense," he says. My shirt suddenly pulls up over my head and I roll my eyes. Movers. They're all drama queens. "You've gotta stop living in your head, Cass."

I snort. "Psychic, moron. I kind of can't. I stop living in my head, we stop living period."

"For one night?" he smirks. Invisible fingers walk their way up my thighs (oh yeah, fucking a Mover has it's perks) and I shiver. "We're not that bad, Cassie."

"Yeah, we are," I snort. "Hello, do we have to mention Shanghai?"

He scowls. "Let's not." My pants work down, those phantom fingers slipping inside, and I lift my hips to help. "And don't even try mentioning Paris."

I smile, batting my eyelashes. "Wouldn't even think about it." He finally gets real fingers in on the fun and I'm squirming, panting. Oh yeah, there are definite perks. "Okay," I manage, "I wouldn't think a lot, but I was right."

"You're always right," he mumbles against my breast. "It's a pain in the ass."

"Yeah," I sigh, curling fingers into his hair. It's just long enough that I can. "But when I'm right about awesome sex, how's that wrong?"

He snorts. "When you're jailbait."

I smirk. "I'm not anymore." Sometimes, it feels like I'm parroting lines, but I know in a few seconds Nick'll be on his back and I'll be riding him. He'll blow raspberries into my skin and make me laugh, then make me come, and then he'll flip us and eat me out until I come again. The third time will be by thinking about it. Him sitting in that old wicker chair by the window, naked, watching me writhe on the bed alone.

We'll fuck a couple more times before breakfast, in the shower, in the kitchen, and then we'll go. Division'll be a few steps behind us, enough that the scent of sex'll still be in the air when Kira steps through the door, and by dinner, we'll be on a plane a hundred miles away.

I'll have a couple of drinks on the plane, see our next destination, and when we land, we'll go the other way.

After that, the whole thing starts all over. My life is kind of fucked up, but fucked up or not, I still kind of love it.

"I lose you?" Nick asks, hand on my hip.

I shake my head and reach for him. Seeing's good, but doing's better.


End file.
